


Bucky No More

by sweaterbarnes



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky isn't Bucky anymore, Dark!Bucky, ca:tws compliant, canon compliant with a twist, evil!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4493622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweaterbarnes/pseuds/sweaterbarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the old Bucky never resurfaced? What if all that's left after HYDRA is done with him is the Winter Soldier?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bucky No More

The Winter Soldier’s arm slid off Steve’s shield with a hideous screech, sparks flying.  He jumped back, glaring at Steve from over his mask. Steve just smirked and jumped, plowing both feet into the Soldier’s chest and falling into a crouch as the Soldier stumbled back, momentarily disoriented. Locks of brown hair fell into the Soldier’s face and he growled angrily, brushing them away before pulling out his knife and lunging. They both fell to the ground, wrestling for a minute before they finally rolled to a stop. The Soldier’s knife was pressed to Steve’s neck and Steve had an iron grip on the Soldier’s throat, thumb pressed under his chin, pressing down and making the Soldier choke slightly. Just when he thought he had won, the Soldier wrapped his hand around Steve’s shoulder and fell backwards, pulling the Captain with him. He twisted at the last minute and pressed a knee to Steve’s throat, tracing his chin with the tip of the knife. He was about to cut his throat when he suddenly became very still and, keeping Steve pinned, put a hand to his ear and listened intently. After a moment he nodded and hit Steve over the head with the butt of the knife. When he came to the Soldier was gone and so was any evidence he had ever been on the roof.

~~~~~~

“Why did you call me back? I had him on the ropes,” the Soldier said, hands clasped behind his back and posture ramrod straight. He still had some of his face paint left, leaving his face somewhat shadowed.

Pierce gave him a sharp look and snapped, “What have I said about asking questions? Your purpose is your mission, I give you your mission. Do not doubt how that mission is planned or there will be consequences, I hope you remember what those were last time.” The Soldier shifted uncomfortably under his harsh gaze and unconsciously twitched his left shoulder further out of sight, in an effort to hide his only weak point from Pierce. Pierce nodded in satisfaction and pulled out a file, handing it over and saying, “Here are the directions for your next step, follow them to the letter.” The Soldier took the file and flipped it open, looking it over with a practiced eye. Nodding, he closed it and ducked silently out of the room.

~~~~~~

          Steve landed punch after punch on the sandbag. Fists flying faster and faster until the bag went flying across the room, spilling sand as it went. He grabbed another and hooked it up, breathing for a minute before beginning to punch. Thud, thud, thud. Not stopping even when Natasha came up and held the bag, stopping it from swinging and interrupting his rhythm. She glanced over at the pile of coarse fabric and sand in the corner.

“You know we’ll take them down, right?” she asked, not even flinching when he punched hard enough to move her back a foot or so.

“I’m aware,” he said, voice almost a growl. He punched one more time before beginning to unwrap his wrist bindings. “I know we’ll get them I’m just frustrated.”

“At what?” she asked, taking the bindings from him and tossing them onto his gym bag.

“I just…I can’t stop thinking about my fight with the Soldier. He took me down more easily than anyone ever has and he could absolutely have killed me, the only thing that stopped him was orders from HYDRA to retreat. He had a knife to my neck, Widow, I was completely exposed and I hate it,” he said, staring at his hands and trying to stop them from shaking. Natasha moved towards him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” she tapped him on the chin, “look at me. I know you and I am completely confident that you _will_ win the next time you and the Soldier fight. Don’t give me that look, just because you lost to him once doesn’t mean you can never win against him.”

“I know that, I do.  I just have a hard time believing it. The worst part is I can’t lose, I’m Captain America. I’m supposed to be a leader and if I can’t beat one man then how can people expect me to successfully keep my team and country safe?”

“Steven Grant Rogers!” Natasha snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at him, her lips quirking slightly when he looked up at her, startled at her outburst. “Now, I know you probably don’t want to hear this but I promise we are all fully capable of taking care of ourselves. Honestly, we aren’t called superheroes for nothing. Besides, does what people think of you really affect your abilities as a fighter and as a leader? No, it doesn’t. So get yourself out of this funk and be ready to fight, and _win_ , by the next time I see you or I will make you be ready myself.” She said, lightly whacking him on the back of the head before walking out of the gym, ponytail swinging behind her.

~~~~~~

           Steve adjusted and readjusted the chin strap of his helmet nervously, forcing his hands down to his sides when Natasha  raised an eyebrow at him. He gave her a quick, wavering, twitch of his lips that was supposed to be a smile but, from the look on her face, he wasn’t pulling it off. He sighed and dropped his head, flinching when she patted his arm reassuringly. Leaning in she whispered, “Breathe.  We’ll go out there, take him down, bring him in, and finish this.” He exhaled and nodded, straightening up and striding out to his motorcycle. Revving the engine, he checked to make sure that Natasha was ready on her bike and drove away, preparing to face the Soldier as he sped down the road.

          The intersection was a disaster, cars were lying on their sides, shattered glass littered the asphalt, rubble lined the street, and people were frantically trying to find their way out of the area. Natasha made a beeline for the civilians, ushering them to safety and giving Steve a wink before disappearing around a corner with about five people trailing behind her and a kid in her arms. Steve turned and swallowed when he saw the Soldier crouched on top of a nearby truck, reloading his gun. He snuck to the left and crouched behind a car, watching the Soldier intently. All Steve could see was him reattaching parts of the gun and occasionally scanning his surroundings, keeping a lookout for any enemies. Steve reached back and grabbed his shield. When he turned back the Soldier was gone and he couldn’t see him anywhere. He shot up, on the defensive immediately and did a slow turn, stopping when he saw the Soldier standing on the street behind him, head cocked and gun pointed in his direction. Steve stood up slowly and tightened his grip on his shield.

“Hello, Soldier,” he said, keeping a cautious eye on the gun. The Soldier just tilted his head in acknowledgment and didn’t move. Suddenly, he fired at Steve’s feet and ran to the left, pulling his handgun from its holster on his back and keeping it trained on Steve until he disappeared around a corner. Just as Steve moved to follow him he reappeared, dragging a struggling Natasha with him. His arm was braced across her chest and one hand was on her neck, gun pressed to her temple with the other. She snarled and twisted when he tightened his grip but stood stock still otherwise.

“If you let me leave with no questions asked I won’t shoot her,” the Soldier said, thick Russian accent evident even through his mask. Steve was about to respond when he saw the smirk on Natasha’s face. He nodded and backed away a little.

“You really shouldn’t be asking me about letting you leave, I’m not your biggest concern at the moment.” The Soldier cocked his head in confusion, eyes widening in realization when Natasha headbutted him in the chin and slipped out of his arms, jumping onto his shoulders and pulling a wire out of her belt, wrapping it around his neck and pulling it tight. Dropping his gun, he scrambled for the wire while trying to throw her off of his shoulders. He backed into one of the tipped over cars and she let out a pained grunt but held fast, hooking her feet around his waist and bending slightly, trying to get a better angle with the wire. He growled and spun, dislodging her as he did so and throwing her to the ground. She rolled and hit the tires of a car, bouncing off and coming to a stop, not moving. The Soldier shook his head to clear it and ran for his gun, giving a muffled shout when Steve dropkicked him from behind, slamming him into a nearby van. When he turned around Steve was right there shoving him back into the metal with a smirk on his face. “I told you I wasn’t your biggest problem.” The Soldier growled and kneed him in the groin, moving away from the van when he doubled over in pain and pulling out his knife. He spun it in his fingers before slamming it down towards  Steve, only to hit the shield and jump away. Steve stood up and slammed his shield into the Soldier’s neck. He blocked with his metal arm and Steve winced at the impact that sent a jarring pain through his arm and into his shoulder. The Soldier advanced, slashing and stabbing at every opportunity. They twisted and turned, slamming into each other and jumping apart, only to go right back at it. When it seemed like one had the upper hand the other would land a punch, a slice, a kick, and the playing field would be even again. Eventually Steve managed to drive the Soldier’s face into his knee and shove him down to the ground. The mask went skittering along the road and he rolled onto his stomach, one hand over his face and the other still gripping the blade, blood dripping onto the asphalt below him. Steve grabbed his shoulder roughly and rolled him over so he could see his face. Yanking the Soldier’s hand away from his face he growled, “Let’s see who you are assho-,” he stopped abruptly at the familiar scowl and smoldering brown eyes. “Bucky?”

“How the hell do you know my name,” he asked, lip curling in anger as he spoke.

~~~~~~

The Soldier glared at the agent who had shoved his hands into the handcuffs that kept him fastened to the table and rubbed his wrist. They hadn’t exactly been gentle with him. The agent glared back but returned her gaze to the files in front of her.  He sighed and played with the chain on the handcuffs as he waited, throwing his boots up on the table and ignoring the offended look the agent gave him.

“Keep your damn boots off my interrogation table. I just had it cleaned and you’re scuffing it,” Fury said as he stomped into the room and sat down across from him, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “Now, explain.”

“Explain what?”

“Explain to me why the hell you decided to start stirring shit up in my city?”

“Well,” the Soldier said slowly, leaning forward and linking his fingers underneath his chin. “Do you really want to know? Or are you just teasing?” Fury growled and he chuckled, lips curling into a self-satisfied grin. He crooked a finger and motioned for Fury to come closer. Scoffing, Fury leaned back a little and waited, face twisted in displeasure. The Soldier rolled his eyes and whispered, “Orders are orders,” a wide grin spreading over his face, giving him an almost manic look.

~~~~~~

“Steve you can’t keep doing this, you’re going to ruin your hands,” Natasha said quietly from her seat on the bench in the back of the gym. Steve grunted and slammed into the bag, exhaling slowly as he pulled back to do it again.

“They’ll heal,” was his clipped response, the thump of his fist covering her exasperated sigh. Shaking her head she walked over and slipped in between him and the bag, grabbing his fist and refusing to let go even when he glared and tried to shake her off.

“That’s not the point. I know this isn’t an ideal situation but you can’t do this to yourself every time something gets too overwhelming. You need to face your problems, you can’t just punch life away.” He sneered and spun away, ignoring the little drops of blood that fell from his ruined knuckles and spattered the cement floor. He heard a soft but sharp inhale and he squeezed his eyes shut, knowing she had seen the blood. Whether it was on her hand from grabbing him or she spotted it on the floor didn’t matter, all that mattered was that he escape the looming lecture and the disappointment he knew he would see in her eyes. Natasha grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face her. He stumbled back in surprise when she punched him so hard he could swear he felt the bones in his jaw shift a little.

“You are a damn fool,” she said slowly, discreetly shaking out her hand at her side. “Talk to him, it will help.” She shoved him kindly but forcefully towards the door. “I saw the guards taking Bucky down the hall so he’s probably in a holding cell right now.” When he didn’t move she whacked him on the back of his head. “Go!” He nodded and sprinted out of the gym, still rubbing his jaw and wincing as he went.

~~~~~~

Growling, the Soldier slammed his fist against the wall of his cell and breathed out harshly when a throbbing pain shot through his arm. He had failed his mission, his purpose. He would have to be fixed when he returned, this was unacceptable.  He ground his fist against the hard metal of the wall and let out a satisfied huff when he saw the red smear he left when he pulled his fist away. Someone knocked on the steel door and the Soldier tensed, curling his metal fingers into a fist and preparing to attack. When his target walked in the Soldier sat in a cold silence, radiating anger but not moving. The target raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the bare furnishings and the cramped room. The Soldier sneered and put his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and letting his hands hang between his knees, metal covering flesh. 

“Are you here to kill me?”

“No,” the target said, looking like he had been dealt the worst possible blow. “I’m here to talk.” The Soldier cocked his head, waiting for him to continue.

~~~~~~

Steve stood close to the door, fingers loose around the handle in case he had to make a quick getaway. The Bucky sitting in front of him wasn’t his Bucky. Not anymore. This Bucky was distant, deadly, and he kept staring at Steve with a blank expression on his face. None of the old emotion remained in his face, no trace of the friendship and love that had been there so long ago.

“Do you know me?,” Steve asked, swallowing when that calculating gaze whipped up to his face, eyes ringed in black narrowing and searching his face for clues.

Bucky shook his head, long hair falling in his face and  said, “You are my mission, nothing more.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he tightened his grip on the door handle. “Was this mission, was I, worth destroying the city?”

“The mission has to be completed,” Bucky said simply, voice giving nothing away. No waver or falter,  just a monotone response that left Steve speechless.

“But you failed, I’m still here,” Steve said, brow creased in confusion.

“The mission isn’t over yet,” Bucky said. Before Steve could ask what he meant he jumped up from the cot and launched himself towards Steve in one fluid motion, covering the distance in two short steps. Bucky’s metal arm pressed hard against Steve’s throat, making him choke and gasp for air. “But it will be,” he growled, twisting Steve’s arm with his other arm almost to the point of breaking. In a desperate scramble to escape, Steve pushed on the door handle and he and Bucky fell back through the doorway when the door swung open. Bucky had released his arm in surprise and Steve used that opening to shove him away and run for the opposite wall, slamming his hand down on the alarm that Fury had placed outside of all the high security cells. A high pitched wail started up, a piercing sound that left a buzzing in Steve’s ears. He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head to clear it but arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him away from the alarm and throwing him back towards the cell. He grabbed the edge of the door to stop himself and turned back to face Bucky. Before he could grab him again Steve leaped on him and gripped Bucky’s head, fingers catching and pulling on his long hair. Bucky growled and struggled, legs kicking at the ground as he tried to lever himself up and away from Steve. Steve hit his head on the floor, guilt blooming when Bucky slumped, still struggling weakly. A few moments later agents burst through the door, ready to fight until they saw Bucky almost unconscious on the ground next to a panting Steve, bruises already blooming on his neck and on his back and arm underneath the uniform.

“Everything’s under control,” Steve said, wincing as he pushed himself up. He jerked his head towards Bucky. “Get him to medical then lock him up again, this time in our most secure cell.” They nodded and got to work, quickly pulling Bucky to his feet and clicking handcuffs into place. They dragged him towards the door and were about to leave when Steve stopped them. “Wait, I have one more question for him.” He leaned in close and forced Bucky to look him in the eye. “Why do you let them manipulate you like this?” he asked, hoping at least some of his Bucky would surface, give him an honest to answer. Bucky snorted and his lips curled into a gleeful grin.

“Who says I was forced.” Steve’s eyes widened and he stepped back, frozen as he watched the agents dragged a still grinning Bucky away.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and feedback are always appreciated <3
> 
> Stalk me on [Tumblr](http://sweaterbarnes.tumblr.com/).


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